poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “drugs”

I’ve been self-prescribing for so long
beginning to believe I’m an expert
in any field
apothecary shop across the street
has been thriving for nearly
a century now
modestly contributing to the local economy
providing products we’ve
come to know and love
since the beginning of time
I want our love to last forever
so I keep asking myself
what shall we take next time
our lives seem to be separating

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drug deals come and go
and whether they’re legal or not
hasn’t ever seemed to matter to the
general population or big pharma
we used to think we could handle
just about anything
[be it cooked artificially
or arriving naturally]
only later did we realize
what hurts the most
can’t possibly be remedied
without assistance from the
power of the mind
and so that gets us back
why we started in the first place
experimenting without reason
attempting to get back to a place
existing before the written word
before the world had no boundaries

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we pump ourselves up with artificial
intelligence designed to make us fly by
unnoticed and unashamed
turning our dreams into newsflashes
made to fizzle in the dark
leaving everyone wondering
exactly what went wrong

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we listened to pink floyd
all afternoon
before settling on watching the wall
neither sunlight nor lightning
could penetrate the electronic den
stocked with essentials and
adorned with colorful matter
that shined on the four corner speakers
slightly exposing fellow clan members
relaxing on the supersectional
and loveseat
and futon
and pink bean bag chair
sometime before the wall is smashed
a pizza delivery boy arrives unannounced
swarmed by our open arms
we tear into his flesh
only to stitch him
back together
like some old rag dollhttp://webspace.webring.com/people/lm/mostlypoetry/audio/before_the_wall_is_smashed.mp3
november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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they brought him into school
to address the warrior nation
and I sat in the little theater
so happy to miss math
this cat spent most of his adult
life in and out of prison
and he spoke softly and slowly
as if he once walked dead
his tales of thievery involving
blunt knives and drugs
and smoking guns
proved to be entertaining
until he bent down
on one knee
and proceeded to reenact
that night
he held his girlfriend’s lifeless body
in his tattered arms
I hid my eyes beneath my hand
and looked around the room
trying to figure out which one of us
would be tomorrow’s speaker

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she sat on the curb at twilight
stale tears etched on her cheeks
elbows on knees
fingers curled in
her knuckles keeping her face
from sinking even further
across the street police lights strobe
in a constant circle and remittent flash
the k9 sedan idling
its radio haltingly chatty
broadcasting to nobody
but the girl
and her neighbors
operating as passersby
twenty-four concrete steps
and a steel railing
scale the hill leading up to her house
where inside her daddy
is handcuffed and pinned to the wall
soon to be escorted
down the twenty-four steps
and past the curb
momentarily out
of her wretched lifehttp://webspace.webring.com/people/lm/mostlypoetry/audio/search_warrant.mp3click here for youtube video